


Meet Me on the Corner of 8th and 31st (It's Been too Long)

by TenTomatoes



Series: Harold's Home for the Technologically Gifted [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), James Bond (Craig movies), Person of Interest (TV), Supernatural
Genre: AU where Harold kind of adopted and raised some computer nerds who went on to lead interesting lives, Gen, Slice of Life, alternative past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:18:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenTomatoes/pseuds/TenTomatoes
Summary: In which a family gets lunch and talks about normal things such as exploding pens, fake ID's, demons, and the shattering guilt of not saving human lives when you have the chance---An AU where Harold taught (raised) some computer hackers who grew up to fight demons, control spies, and help vigilantes but that doesn't change the fact they like to get lunch with their teacher (dad) every once in a while





	Meet Me on the Corner of 8th and 31st (It's Been too Long)

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place around season 8ish of supernatural, season 1 of arrow, season 2 of person of interest, and just after Skyfall.

They liked to meet in person at least once every few months. The meetings were more of a formality, of course, rarely a day went by without at least a quick text or a small hacked camera to check in. The camera hacking was more common; they were ashamed to admit. Communication and time management were always troublesome, especially for them. One minute you’d be looking at a nice string of code and the next thing you knew it was dark outside and someone had remotely set off an alarm so you’d remember to eat.  

But views through cameras and absent minded textual updates could only last for so long before even they, as isolated as they were, longed for the comforting presence of someone who knew every secret they had. They needed someone close enough to reach out and remind them they weren’t alone in the world, even though it seemed like it all too often. So the meetings weren’t for a practical reason, not for catching up or updates, though that did happen, it was a much more sentimental than that.

It was Harold’s turn to host the meeting. His taxi pulled up to a small, non-descript restaurant. He had been debating on whether or not to treat them to a ridiculously expensive lunch that cost as much as a small car, but instead chose a tiny restaurant called Red List that still had good food but most importantly had good wifi and no working cameras; it made erasing their lunch much easier when there were no cameras, it was almost like he was slacking, after all it was the host’s job to make sure they all retained the privacy they all so enjoyed. To top it all off the restaurant had a special enclosed room that Harold had rented that would allow for more delicate topics to be discussed without fear. He had decided that this was more important than throwing out money on people who would eat anything that wasn’t the cold tea or coffee they realized they had forgotten about.    

Harold limped out of his taxi, leaving a tip that was more than the entire cost of the trip, and entered Red List. He made sure mark where each of the cameras that could see him were. There weren’t many, which made Harold both satisfied and disgusted; it meant less work for him, but they lack of security was appalling. Not for the first time he wondered how anybody stayed safe in this city.

The restaurant was quiet, it being slightly passed the lunch rush, dimly lit and rather homey. Harold quite liked it. He wished they could come back to it sometime.

“Reservations for Cardinal,” he told the hostess.

The hostess smiled at him warmly.

“Of course, it you’ll follow me. One of your party has already arrived.” She said brightly.

Of course he had. He always arrived first.

The restaurant wasn’t big so it only took a moment to weave past tables and come to a room closed off with glass doors. As stated, there was already someone in the room when he entered. The boy, and he would always be a boy in Harold’s head though he had been a man for many years now, sat primly at the table, a cup of what was most likely earl gray already half drained in front of him. Harold quickly took in the mussed brown hair, the light bag under his eyes, hidden by his thick framed glasses, the slight sharpening of his cheekbones, and decided Q was doing all right.

Harold thanked the hostess, ordering a bottle of wine, before letting a smile bloom on his face.

Q smiled himself and quickly got up from his seat, wrapping Harold in his arms. Their hug was long and warm, betraying the length of time it had been since they last had a meeting. Q gripped the back of Harold’s like he was a child again and Harold’s couldn’t bring himself to be even slightly miffed at the winkles there would be in his nice suit jacket.   

“Q, early as ever I see,” Harold said when they pulled apart.

 “Someone has to set the time for the meeting,” he said, accent as crisp as ever. He tried for nonchalant but his eye gleamed and his lips refused to turn down. 

There was never a definite meeting time, they always based their departure time on whoever decided to leave first. Careful monitoring of each other movements and quick calculations worked better than any google calendar did and it left even less of a trace. Q never failed to leave first.

Harold himself didn’t attempt to hide his smile, feeling the familiar fondness swell in his chest.

“You look well,” he said, as they moved to sit again.    

“You’re the first to say that,” Q huffed. “Everyone else repeatedly harps about my sleeping and eating habits. I expected more from MI6 than leaving tea spiked with sleeping pills on my desk. It’s as though they think I’m a child. I’m 30 for god’s sake.”

Harold opened his mouth to say something along the lines of “does no one realize that forgetting to sleep and eat and general not caring about one’s health is part of a hacker's job description?”, in a much more elegant way of course, when the hostess came back with a woman.

“Felicity, you made it.”

Harold struggled up as Felicity all but ran to him. Her pony tail was as tight and her make up neat as ever but there were bags under her eyes that were deeper than he’d seen in a long time. There was a crinkle in her brow that just barely smoothed over as she tipped herself into his arms. It unsettled him, Felicity usually took care of herself much better than Q did.

“Harold,” Felicity groaned into his shoulder as they hugged, her glasses pressing sharply against his neck. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

Felicity hugged him much in the same way Q had and Harold was beginning to think they had waited much to long for another meeting. He tightened his grip on her just slightly as though he was apologizing before releasing her.

“I never knew IT jobs were so stressful Felicity,” Q said as though he didn’t know exactly what she’d been caught up in the last few months.

Felicity swatted his arm before pulling him into a hug too, just as warm and deep.

“Telling people with questionable intelligence to turn the computer off and on again, no,” she sighed. “But keeping an unstable vigilante with enough problems to fill a book from either killing himself or everyone else turns out to be a full time job.

Q laughed sharp and bright and Felicity leaned into it, shoulder relaxing and body going limp.

“Welcome to the club, love. It’s a right chore isn’t it? And they never put it in the job description.”

Harold gave her a small sympathetic grimace. If there was any one who could fully understand her situation, it was Harold and Q. The Technological Genius to an Angst Riddled Crime Fighter Club had a new member and luckily the other two members were also there in the room with her.

Felicity pulled away but still kept her hand resting on Q’s arm, twisting the fabric between her fingers.

“Where is Charlie?” Felicity asked.

“I hope she changes her name again soon. I never cared for this one,” Q muttered.

“I know you love Ray Bradbury,” Felicity said.

“Yes, but when I think of Bradbury I think of an atomic bomb and that is not something I want to correlate with her. Besides I liked it when she was Julie Pratchett. She looks like Julie.”

“Oh and you look like a letter?”

It was an old argument, one that Felicity and Q were much too excited to get back into so Harold quickly cleared his throat and look down at his watch.

“She wasn’t too far behind you so she should be here in-”

“What’s up bitches?”

“Well now I suppose.”

Charlie burst into the room followed by the now distressed looking waitress. Her hair was wild and her clothes wrinkled but her grin stretched across her entire face and her eyes glittered sharply.

“What have I told you about that kind of language?”

Harold’s chastising wasn’t that effective as she effectively ignored it all and reached over to wrap Q and Felicity into a two-armed bear hug. It was business as usual.

“Yes, yes. You can wash my mouth out later. But first come here!”

She let Q and Felicity go and threw her arms around his shoulders. With all of them here in his sight, a cord of tension he didn’t know he had relaxed. There was a lightness in the room. Here the world was paused and all of the dangers he knew they were caught up in couldn’t reach them.

“Could I get any one anything to drink?”

Charlie released Harold and they all turned to the flustered waitress, smiling weakly. They ordered their drinks and their food and allowed the waitress to scuttle out before they all took a seat at the table.  

“This meeting couldn’t have come soon enough,” Charlie said.

“It had been quite an exciting few months,” Harold agreed.

“That is one of the biggest understatements I have ever heard. And I have had a double O agent call 4 gunshot wounds, a broken arm, and his left leg almost burned off a scratch,” Q said dryly.   

Charlie’s face lit up.

“Oh yeah, you’re now a super-secret agent. Think you can whip me up a flaming sword or maybe a working lightsaber with all that new funding and resources? I’d be cool with an exploding pen too.”

They could see her mind reeling with the possibilities, which was actually quite frightening because they were sure she could probably take over the world with an exploding pen.

“Q-branch currently does not have it in the budget to create exploding pens or any other destructive objects that your twisted mind can come up with,” Q said with the practice ease of someone who had this conversation at least once a week.

“How is Q-branch?” Felicity asked.

Q sighed.

“The whole system was rather dismal and outdated. Its much better since I arrived. You could have broken into their system when you were 12.”

Felicity had tried to hack into Q-branch and hadn’t managed to get in. But she was 10 at the time so that explained her failure. Nonetheless, Felicity seemed to deflate. Q-branch had always been her vision of heaven, she would have joined them herself if not for the fact she didn’t want to encroach on Q’s territory and, more importantly, she didn’t think they would take her what with her being America. It was disappointing to hear Q branch was second rate. It was almost as bad as the time Q told her Harold was the one who bought the presents at Christmas time.

“Anything I can do to help?” Felicity asked.

“No I redesigned everything and it’s all working beautifully. Actually, would mind trying to get in sometime and offer and weak points in the system? After Silva-,” Q trailed off, fists clenching on the table.

“Sure,” Charlie grinned, trying to lighted his mood. “I’m going to steal all the state secrets. Including how to get one of those license to kill.”

“Do you need a license to kill demons?” Felicity asked.

“I still cannot believe you are now a ghost buster,” Q said. “Harold, you didn’t know about ghosts and everything and didn’t tell us did you?”

“Of course not. When would I have run into any ghosts or such?”

He actually did perform an exorcise, back in college, but they didn’t need to know that.

“So, I suppose you’re getting salt for you next birthday huh,” Felicity said.

“Actually, that would be pretty helpful. So yeah, joke gift accepted. Get me Sam’s Club bulk salt,” Charlie stuck out her tongue. “But guys wait till you see this system I’m building. It’s going to have everything all complied in one easy to handle program! These hunters are crazy with their old timey texts and journals. I don't know how anyone get anything done. And yet they're still able to make some pretty good fake IDs," she said contemplatively. 

"Better than my fake ID's?" Q asked, smirking into his tea cup. 

Charlie rolled her eyes. 

"I said pretty good not flawless. Although they are usually better than Felicity's." 

"What, hey! My fake ID's got us into-."

Felicity's eyes flicked to Harold and the words trailed off. Charlie and Q snickered at the way she grimaced and Harold could perfectly imagine this conversation 15 years ago at their dinner table, back when Charlie went by Sue, Q went by Qinn and Felicity was just dipping her toes into the whole 'goth' thing. He resisted smiling and instead raised an eyebrow at Felicity, delighting in the way she averted her gaze. 

"I mean, I make as good of a fake ID as the next person," she muttered.

"Yeah, but you're names are always so boring. Look at Harold. He has that bird motif. Now that's style." Charlie smiled at Harold who dropped the charade and smiled back. 

"Thank you Charlie, no one ever appreciates my bird motif," he said.

Felicity sent Charlie an unimpressed look.

"Well, we covered demons and secret agencies. What's left?" Q asked. 

"I know, how about superheroooos?" Charlie leaned forward, chin on hands, and eyes shining. 

“He’s not a superhero. He’s a vigilante,” Felicity said frowning.

“So was Batman.” Charlie wiggled her eyebrows.

Felicity ignored her. Her gaze dropped down to the table and she grimaced. Her mouth opened but she closed it again. She opened her mouth again but only a sigh came out.  

“I don’t know,” she finally said and the atmosphere turned tense. “I joined up just to find Walter but he started showing all these people. People I could save if I just helped him. I couldn’t leave them.”

She lifted her head and Harold saw how her eyes had hardened in resolve. So few times Felicity showed that core of steel he knew was within her, Harold felt the old familiar feeling of pride flare in his chest. She turned her steeled gaze to Harold.

“How did you do it Harold? How did you manage to ignore them?”

Felicity tried to keep her tone questioning but her could hear a trace of accusation slipping though her words like a hidden knife. He saw how Charlie and Q tensed, sensing the tone as well, even Felicity jerked as though shocked at herself. Harold felt his throat tighten. He opened his mouth to say his line, tired and worn, that he made the machine to save everyone not someone, but he closed it again. It felt heavy and wrong. Like the lie he knew it was.

“I couldn’t do it,” he said finally, his eyes focused on the wall beside Q’s head.

There was a rush of fear, followed by a weightlessness that came with the truth.

“I saw their faces everywhere at all times. There were in my dreams and in my nightmares. With each terrorist attack averted 4 new faces were added to the list. Face after face. They never stopped coming. People never stop planning to kill each other.”

Harold closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If any one deserved the truth, it was them, who had been through it all.

“I couldn’t handle it, Felicity," he said firmly. "That’s why I need to do what I’m doing now.”

“I’m worried about you. After the whole Root thing,” Charlie trailed off.

Felicity stared at him with her eyebrows turned up and Q fingers tapped in the way that showed he was frustrated. Usually it was directed at a string of challenging coding he couldn’t quite grasp or and unintelligent intern. It should never have to be directed at him. Harold felt his chest tighten.

He tried to push away his annoyance. Harold knew they were only concerned, just as he was concerned about all of them, but he felt the urge to snap back something about demon hunting and vigilantes and terrorists. None of them had taken the safest road they could take and the idea of losing any of them terrified Harold in way threatened to destroy him. But he had respected their decisions and their abilities, he wished they would extend him the same courtesy. He took a deep breath and let the anger drain.

“I noticed,” he said finally. “If your sad attempts to get into my personal server are any indication.”

Their eyes all widened. Charlie’s in faux innocent, Felicity’s in guilt, and Q’s in surprise.

“Hacking? Did you say hacking? What hacking?”

“Look, I didn’t mean to. Well I did, but I. You see I just wanted to. You know I’m really sorry-.”

“You found it? But I put a whole new encryption on it and it was-. How on earth this you bloody track it let alone stop me?”

Harold laughed and the tightness lifted. It was okay again.

Their lunch came and they filled the meal with funny anecdotes often involving some emotionally stunted soldiers and intense discussion on new coding and complaining about a particularly dense person. They avoided any topic involving Root, Silvia, or Walter. They had filled their quota of heavy heart to hearts for a while.

With lunch done, they stood up and hugged. It could be months until they saw each other again, or it may be just next week. With the lives they each lived, they could never know. So they hugged as tight was they possibly could and lingered as long as allowed. They whispered goodbye and left one by one just as they came. And as they left they glanced up at the cameras and grinned. Even if they weren’t in each other’s presence didn’t mean they weren’t in their sight.             

Harold singled for a taxi and made his way back to the Library. He needed to go let Bear out, he thought, and he should also check in on the Winchester boys. It had been a while since he saw how they were doing and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. When he reached the Library he was not so shocked to see John waiting for him.

“Hello Mr. Reese.”

“Hello Harold.” John said smiling in that nonchalant way of his. “What have you been up to today that kept you away from the Library?”

“I was at a meeting.” Harold threw back without missing a beat. He pointedly eyed his chair until John stood up.

“It must have been an important meeting. The Machine gave me the new number.”

Harold let small smile slip. He realized he must have been giving something away to John but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. Not with the warmth from the meeting still in his heart.

“No.” He said. “Not important in the least.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I wrote years ago where I combined a bunch of shows I was into based on nothing but the fact they all had computer nerds I really liked. I promise there's a back story that I might write some day.


End file.
